


The Next Best Thing

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Sting (1973)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-08
Updated: 2008-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:29:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry breaks his own rules to check up on his partner.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Best Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sage

 

 

Author's Note: I apologise if the plot seems a bit watered down. Hope you like it Sage!

February 1937

Johnny glanced around the luxurious hotel suite unflinchingly. The place reeked of silver spoons, expensive mistresses and overweight social climbers. He accepted a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, and began weave his way around the money and cigarette smoke.

The tonight's con was easy. It was about baiting notorious gambler, William Lombard, into a partnership with Johnny. To do that, Johnny was going to have to show a deft hand at poker. 

It wasn't difficult for Johnny to quickly become the centrepiece of the room. His rackish charm, blue eyes and boyish good looks gave him an untouched aura which was cat nip to the more experienced poker players. This young heir to a fortune in property was ripe for the picking. 

Before the game began, he ensconced himself within the ranks of the rich and the beautiful. He danced with flirtatious debutantes, enthralled with tales of playboy escapades, and seduced with risky ambitions of how he was going to spend (or throwaway) 'Father's Fortune'.

A small bell was rung to indicate that play was about commence. Everyone took their seats, adjusted their cufflinks and hunted around for another cigar.

Next to Johnny sat Frenchman, Mathieu Georges. Georges had a reputation for a hot temper and skill to match. He didn't say or do very much apart from glare at those around the table, and chastise a waiter for spilling champagne down the side of his glass. Alongside him was one of his bodyguards. A well-known heavy weight boxer named Turk Gleeson. His battered face a reminder of dangerous strength, power and intimidation. 

Johnny was given the deck and proceeded to shuffle. He concentrated on breathing deeply, and began to deal the cards. He used the flourishes Henry had taught him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lombard watching him like a hawk. "Let's begin gentlemen".

For the next hour or so, Johnny played modestly. He won a little, lost a little, then won it back. When play continued after a quick break, Georges began to lose heavily. It was clear he was not enjoying it. So when he threw down one hand of cards and muttered in frustration, Johnny risked a sideways glance and a small throwaway comment. 'Had enough'?, he murmured. Georges glared at him. " Certainly not"! He looked at the moderator on the other side of the room. "Another pack of cards"! The game continued. 

During the next ten minutes, Johnny continued to get under the skin of the Frenchman, with barely audible antagonising mutterings and comments only Georges could hear. Players continued to fold and Georges won back some of his money. Eventually it boiled down to just him and Johnny. 

"Double"?, the Frenchman asked, hoping to rattle Johnny's nerves as the entire room held its breath.

Johnny gave him a confident glance and leaned back in his seat. "Of course". Johnny dealt again. He discarded two cards, but didn't really pick up anything special. But just to undermine Georges, he allowed himself the tiniest of nods to indicate that he had a good hand. He held his breath hoping his bluff would pay off.

Unexpectedly, Georges threw his cards down in a rage. "You win" he threw at Johnny and stormed out of the room; entourage in tow. Everyone sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, before the alcohol began to flow and the buzz of conversation returned. He coolly accepted his winnings, and a shot of whiskey, before wandering out onto the balcony for some night air and a cigarette. Relief was the first thought on his mind. But as usual, his thoughts turned to his partner and friend.

"Mr Wallace"? Johnny jumped and looked up to see a man standing behind him. "The names Maguire. Benedict Maguire. I work for William Lombard. You were impressive out there tonight. Georges only storms out like that when he is beaten comprehensively".

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "Learned a bit in my time".

He opened his silver cigarette case and offered it to Johnny. "We've heard you might be looking for a new partner".

"Someone has a big mouth".

Marguire smiled. But his smile didn't reach his eyes, which made Johnny wary. "We're all friends here Mr Wallace. Mr Lombard was hoping that you may be able to help each other out".

He dangled his arm around Johnny's shoulders and led him through the party guests to a private corner of the room. On a chair sat an older, heavy-set gentleman with three of his goons surrounding him.

"David Wallace"? Johnny nodded and lit the cigarette still sitting between his fingers.

"Name's William Lombard. I've been told you're the partner of a gambler named Frederick Lawrence"

"Former partner", Johnny folded his arms, trying to keep his face disinterested. 

Lombard smiled. The smile of a cat contemplating a juicy fish. "Also heard you are calling in his debts. And not by diplomatic means".

"Stupid bastard drank all we were winning. Woulda killed the son-of-a-bitch myself, but killin' a drunk has no dignity".

By the time Johnny finished giving Lombard his pitch about regaining his lost money, he had him in the palm of his hand. 

"Hows about meeting tomorrow afternoon for lunch? I own a club downtown. The Red Room".

Johnny leaned against the back of the chair. "Nice establishment - been a few times. Very obliging women you got there".

Lombard laughed. "Say 2 pm? Perhaps I can persuade you further". Johnny nodded.

Maguire pipped up quickly. "Sure you won't join us for a night cap".

"Nah, I have an appointment I have to keep. Nice brunette I met back in K.C. She doesn't like to be kept waiting". 

********************************************

Johnny slowly walked back to his hotel, glad of the crisp February air cooling his flushed skin. 

The only thing to mar the evening was the fact that Henry hadn't been there. No doubt his friend would have gotten one hell of a kick outta seeing his performance tonight. But Henry wouldn't be arriving from Philadelphia for another two weeks. 

As he closed the door to his suite, Johnny removed his cravat, undid the top button of his shirt and took off his shoes and socks. He picked up the newspaper which had been left on the table, flopped into an overstuffed armchair and began reading - a habit he had developed over many shared breakfasts with Henry. 

"Well"? 

Johnny's eyes jerked over the paper to see Henry leaning against the doorframe between the bedroom and the living area. He forgot himself for a moment and quickly jumped out of his seat. The newspaper fell out of his lap into an undignified heap over the floor. "What's goin' on"? 

Henry concentrated on his whiskey glass. "No rule that says a man can't check in on his partner".

A lump developed in Johnny's throat unbidden as his eyes flicked over Henry indulgently. Clad in only bare feet, undershirt and trousers with suspenders hanging down the sides, he stll managed to look as dignified and handsome as ever. The developments in their relationship had seemed to re-energise Henry. He was more light hearted. Younger even. Johnny suppressed the beam threatening to spread across his face by pulling the wad of c-notes from the inside the pocket of his dinner jacket and throwing them across the table.

"You shoulda seen it Henry". Johnny plumped himself back in the armchair. Henry smiled his gentle trademark smile and began to gather up the bills in a neat pile. 

"Went well huh"?

"This one's a sure thing. This winchell thrives on popularity and greed. Larceny runs through his blood. Naturally it has the potential to bite him on the ass with a little encouragement". 

He stood up beside Henry, watching him count the notes at the table. He could feel tension of the poker game slowly evaporate from his body, replaced with the usual post-con adrenalin. He rested his elbows back on the table and continued. "Boy, I wish you coulda seen it tonight Henry. Crystal glasses, imported cigars, gold cufflinks". 

"Classy set up from the sounds of it".

"Sure was". Johnny paced back to the chair. Henry watched him with amusement. Johnny could never sit still after a big win.

"So what's gonna happen with Lombard"?

Johnny swung his legs over the padded arm of the chair. "Arrogant as all hell. Wouldn't even give me a second look until I showed `em what I could do". He grinned. "I had to feed him some impressive guff. Got in good with his secretary as well". 

"Maguire"?

He grinned and gave Henry his straight-through-the-eyelashes-glance, then looked away. "A strange sorta apple. Swings towards male companionship from what I could gather". He could feel his face flushing. "Roping him to my side wasn't so hard. It was givin' him the brush off that was difficult".

Henry snorted. Typical good `ole fashioned John Hooker charm.

"And me"?

Johnny wandered over to the table. He leaned back, hips braced against the edge of the wood; arms folded. "Told `em you were a World War One vet. Saw plenty of action on the Front, killed a few Germans, earned a few medals. Spent time in the trenches beating everyone at poker. They lapped it up like trained seals............". His voice trailed away slightly as he watched Henry's lips curve around his whiskey glass. Such beautiful lips on a man. Johnny had almost cheered when he had finally gotten rid of his mustache before Christmas.

"And now".

Johnny cleared his throat and sat up. "These days, you're a wealthy, arrogant son-of-a-bitch and you spend most of your time disgustingly drunk". He tapped the back of the chair. "You also have a habit of throwing money away like a drunken sailor; you'd gamble on which direction the the wind was blowing". He snorted. "Lombard's eyes lit up like a kid getting his first train set at Christmas".

Henry gave a small smile, clearly impressed. He began dropping more ice cubes into a glass. "When do you have to meet Lombard again"?

Johnny stretched. "Not till tomorrow afternoon. He's gonna mull things over with Maguire. Though Maguire is a bit of a lop-ear. Hopefully by tomorrow night, you and I will be on our way to a nice juicy backer".

"Thought you might have allowed him to take you to Lombard's nightclub for a drink".

Johnny concentrated on his fingernails. His voice softened marginally. "Nah. As far as they were concerned, I was headin' up to the closest girlie house to blow all my winnings. Best to get outta there while I was still a hero". 

Henry felt pride flood through his body. The Johnny Hooker he met last September would have been there all night seeing how far he could push their buttons. He had developed a fine con man's intuition. But more than that, Henry was enjoying watching the sparkle in his eyes and the proud restlessness in his body. 

"So..um...Henry...." He picked up the newspaper and stared blankly at the classified section. "Didya miss me while you were wining and dining the rich and famous in Philly"? Johnny's tone sounded jokey and off-handed. But the subliminal message in that statement was loud and clear.

Henry breathed in deeply. He had always prided himself on his quiet confidence and self-discipline during a con. But something within him had changed the last few months. An irresistable ambience was mellowing his inhabitions. The night had fallen, a small lamp pushed a warm, dim light traced patterns on the drawn curtains. And it was just him and Johnny. He took another quick shot of whiskey and tried to slow his imagination which seemed to be working overtime. The truth was; that since he had been on the train to Chicago early this morning, all he had thought about was waiting for Johnny to return to the hotel. Not as his grifting partner, but just as Johnny Hooker - his best friend and lover. All too soon, this con would require them to split up again for a while. Seeing the disappointment in Johnny's eyes, he knew he was thinking the same thing. 

"A toast to your success perhaps"? Henry turned to the table and picked up the whiskey bottle to pour them both another drink. As he raised it to one of the glasses - his heart thumping to the point of almost being sick - he expelled a quick, hard breath through his mouth. "Did I miss you"? Henry set the bottle down on the table with a thump; tipping it on its side and making it spin around the lacquered surface until it rolled onto the carpet.

He swung around and clasped the lapels of Johnny's dinner jacket; pulling him up from his chair and kissing him deeply. He stopped and took a breath. "What the hell do you think"? His voice was low; his hands trembling as he tried to reign in his longing. Tonight had to last. After tomorrow, they wouldn't see each other again for two weeks. He roughly slid his fingers through Johnny's unruly hair, his thumbs reaching out to trace every feature of Johnny's face, as if it would help him remember for the time he would be on his own again.

Johnny wrapped his arms around Henry's back. "You have missed me then", he murmured. His voice was husky and full of emotion. He buried his face in Henry's shoulder and inhaled the scent of his cologne and hotel shampoo. He tipped his head slightly; moist lips barely grazing the side of Henry's throat. But it was enough to have Henry sigh and hold him tighter. 

They kissed passionately. Tongues and lips eagerly tasting the warm and familiar mouth of the other. It was urgent and clumsy. There was no room for style or delicacy. Just the feeding of insatiable hunger.

Johnny crowded him into the wall, edging his knee between Henry's thighs, and pushing their bodies together, thrusting against him. His breath caught when he felt that the bulge at the front of Henry's trousers was just as hard as his own. He took off Henry's hat and walked to the bedroom to place it on the nightstand, before returning and taking him in his arms again. His agile and skilled fingers slowly and teasingly untucked Henry's undershirt from his trousers, his fingers sliding up underneath the cool cotton to stroke the hot, tense flesh of Henry's abdomen and chest. Henry lifted his arms to allow Johnny to pull the undershirt completely from his body. Johnny's hands continued to wander. They worked quickly across his shoulders, arms, nipples and chest. Henry just leaned back against the wall not bothering to stifle the moans and hard, quick breaths coming from the back of his throat. 

His fingers strayed below the waistline of Henry's trousers, his lips brushed the spot behind Henry's ear. He smiled when - despite the clothing between hand and flesh - he felt Henry's body twitch sharply against him. 

Knowing he was on the verge of completely breaking, Henry kissed him again, using his weight to steer Johnny backwards through the doorway and into the bedroom. Slamming the door shut with the back of his foot, he pushed Johnny into a sitting position on the bed. Pushing his body between Johnny's legs, Henry sat up on his knees and curled his hand around the back of Johnny's neck, pulling him close and desperately kissing him as if his life depended on it. 

When the arms of the dinner jacket continued to scrap against Henry's bare back, without breaking their kiss, he helped Johnny pull it off and flick it to the floor. He felt for the shirt buttons and blindly unslipped them. He broke away. Both were panting; the heat between them was palable. The shirt and suspenders found their way back over Johnny's arms. His undershirt was thrust over his head in one quick movement. Johnny reached forward and cupped Henry's face in his hands, his mouth kissing those same beautiful lips until they were almost swollen. 

With one hand, Johnny was pushed onto his back.He used his feet to push himself further up the bed. Henry crawled up to him, kissing Johnny's chest, his lips and tongue lingering and soft on his skin. He kissed all the way down to the top of Johnny's trousers; teasing and insinuating and making him cry out suddenly. He stopped and moved forward to look into Johnny's eyes. They were starry and intense. Johnny almost glared back at him. "Christ Henry, hurry up", was his choked up response. Henry set to work again, feeling for the buttons of the cummerbund and the zipper of the trousers. All the while his mouth was alternatively torturing and pleasuring. Finally, Johnny was able to arch his back to allow Henry to tug the trousers and drawers free from his body.

Henry sat back on his knees and just looked at his partner lying naked before him; body tense and ready. Nothing but tanned skin, tousled blonde hair and a silver chain around his neck. Johnny writhered impatiently under Henry's gaze; those blue eyes were devouring him in a manner which could only be described as hot and hungry. It was enough to almost make Johnny climax right there and then. He propped himself up on one elbow and cupped Henry's neck, kissing his earlobe as he muttered in a throaty voice "All that effort and you don't want to touch. You're one hell of a con man".

Henry shuddered at Johnny's gentle touch. "I believe that sight is one of the purest form of self-indulgence". 

"Uh..ha". Johnny reached behind him to the bedside table and picked up Henry's hat, twirling it around his hand. "Guess we have different beliefs. Should I be disappointed"?

Henry answered by pushing Johnny back onto the sheets, taking his hat back and pushing it firmly on his own head with one hand, tipping it up a little. He reached down and kissed Johnny again, sucking each lip before speaking against Johnny's mouth. "No".

Quick grifters hands and fingers ran along the smooth skin of Johnny's legs and the side of his ass. He finally bowed downwards; his tongue working across Johnny's thighs slowly and tantalisingly. His warm breath deliberately tormenting his erection.

He now had Johnny squirming under him, his eyes pleading desperately, but Henry wanted to make it last. He kissed Johnny's lips softly and moved away to discard the rest of his own clothes. He teasingly folded his trousers and placed them over a chair. Drawers were kicked to one side.

Johnny lay back, his breath coming fast and quick. "I wonder why I put up with this sometimes".

Henry grinned as he returned to the bed and leaned over him. "Because I taught you things that only five other guys in the world know". He thought he saw a flicker of a smile reach Johnny's mouth. 

Kissing his way down Johnny's body, Henry finally made true promise. His lips found the sensitive flesh between his thighs. Hot and devouring, Johnny groaned loudly from his chest, his hips arching into Henry's soft, skilled mouth.

He cried out as his body finally and quickly gave in. As he bucked upwards, he reached out for Henry. One hand dug into into his back, the other grabbed his hair. When he was finally released from his agonised pleasure, Johnny let out a harsh, strangled breath before collapsing forward into Henry's warm shoulder. He stayed there for a minute before falling back onto the cool sheets, breath heaving. Henry took off his hat and placed it on the small nightstand. He took Johnny in his arms, smoothing the tangled hair from his sweat-beaded forehead and planting kisses on his face until his body stopped quivering. 

Johnny looked back into those gentle blue eyes he loved so much. Even during sex, Henry was sensitive and selfless.

But that was what made them such an unstoppable team. 

Because Johnny was his opposite. 

As soon as he was sure Henry was unawares, Johnny sprung up, throwing his leg over Henry's waist to straddle him. He took the hat from his head and put it on his own.

"What the he...."!!

Johnny placed two silencing fingertips over Henry's lips. "Shhhhh. Remember that our partnership is equal now". His voice was low with the hint of a smile as he leaned over him and kissed his mouth hard.

Henry savoured the comfort of Johnny's overheated and overcharged body covering his own. But heaven help him, Henry could never take orders from a former protege very well. He couldn't resist clasping Johnny's hips. His fingers followed the curves of his thighs and the tight, round muscles of Johnny's ass. Johnny moaned and sat up "Christ Henry", he gasped and rocked his body forward, grinding them together, then closing his eyes and throwing his head back in pleasure as their bodies began to move into a rhythm that was wild and erratic. 

He gave Henry a steely look as he yanked Henry's hands above his head and pinned them down.

"Poor lookout when a man can't trust his partner to do as he's told", Johnny's words were a low growl. 

Henry smiled at him. "Well you never did".

Johnny grinned into his skin as he settled down to the task at hand. He dipped down and sucked, kissed and nibbled his way over Henry's sculpted chest and abdominal muscles. When Henry's breathing started coming hard and fast, Johnny had to struggle to suppress his own urges.

There was no doubt about it. Kind, gentle, self-contained Henry had his own means and ways of killing him. And as felt the body trembling beneath him, and heard the strained, murmured groans from the top of the bed, he knew he couldn't deprive Henry of anything.

He moved down the bed and slid his warm mouth around Henry's erection; lips and tongue eager to showcase his other talents. As Henry began to move under the pressure, Johnny found it hard to keep control of the sweat-coated hips underneath his hand so he could finish the job. Henry let out a harsh breath, reaching his peak; eyelids fluttering closed and his body relaxing into the mattress.

They lay back quietly, skin damp with sweat; naked limbs entwined. Henry reached down for the sheets and blankets to cover their cooling bodies. When he finished arranging them, he lay back and stared contendedly at the ceiling. Johnny moved across and slid his head onto Henry's chest. He closed his eyes as soft soothing hands reached up to stroke his hair. He felt as if he was out of his body and floating. His muscles relaxed and loose.

As Henry's breathing slowed and his hand loosening on the blonde head, Johnny reached out and trailed a fingertip down Henry's jaw line. He looked at face next to him and smiled. Henry smiled back, his eyes slowly closing. Johnny kissed his cheek and reached down to pick up Henry's hat which had ended up down the side of the night stand. Holding it up to his face, a slight pang filled his gut. The faint hint of Henry's cologne clung to it. 

He watched Henry fall asleep before getting out of bed and tucking the hat into his suitcase. He crawled back under the covers, cuddling up to his lover's warm, comforting body.

It was going to be a long two weeks. And if he couldn't have Henry by his side, he would take the next best thing.

 


End file.
